


The Inventor's Son

by tomorrowsthe16th



Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics), Le Strabilianti Imprese di Fantômius Ladro Gentiluomo
Genre: Because It Wouldn't Be A Fantomius Story Without Them, Fairy Tale Elements, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Lies, Minor Character Death, Minor Retcons, Strained Friendships, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomorrowsthe16th/pseuds/tomorrowsthe16th
Summary: 1921: Ratchet Gearloose returns to a bustling Duckburg to pitch his alternative energy plan to Rockerduck Industries. He wasn't expecting it to be a pleasant trip, but he certainly wasn't expecting run-ins with thieves!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh man i've been excited about this story for a very long time! i don't know if anyone's going to read it, but i hope they do. i'm really passionate about this story, and i don't think you'll need to know too much about the fantomius series to understand it. there's a few references here and there, but nothing to distract from the main story. there should be more ratchet-centric stories around here, so my idea was him in the fantomius series. he's mentioned once so it wouldn't be too outlandish.

_1879_

Ratchet looked at the pills in his hands. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely! You’ve got something, my boy! The only logical option is to go out into the world and show it! You don’t need to stay in this old town.”

“But what about you and mom?”

“We’ll make do. I promise.”

It wasn’t long before Ratchet was off, traveling the world. His father knew he’d be able to do great things.

Maybe Copernicus and Antastasia couldn’t keep that promise, but it was for Ratchet’s own good.

_1921_

Ah Duckburg! It had been a while.

Ratchet took a big whiff of the town where he spent his youth, only to inhale the smoke from the ongoing train, sending him into a coughing fit.

It wasn’t very clean, the mainstream means of energy, but Ratchet was here to change that. Officially, he was here on business. A factory owner that Ratchet couldn’t quite recall the name of without looking at his memo (Perhaps it was Rockerdollar?) was curious about his research on hydroelectricity, and he planned to talk to them in a few days.

Other than that, however, Duckburg was his childhood home. He walked the streets, noting how the town got a lot bigger since he left, but still realized it stayed the same. Ratchet wasn’t sure whether he felt nostalgic for the town he’d left behind, or glad that it had changed and grown so much. He had changed and grown as well, in his own ways. He was an old man now, and with the help of wardrobe changes and self-developed medicine, he had done his best to live his life fully as a man since he left Duckburg. They were a lot alike. Physically changed, older, but deep down, Ratchet was still Ratchet, and Duckburg was still Duckburg.

Ratchet pondered what that would mean for him, for a moment.

Perhaps nothing. He was only here for a few days, perhaps a little more if things went well. He could lay low. He would have to give his father a surprise visit. How long had it been since he last saw his father? Probably a few years, when the two of them bumped into each other in their travels. That was fine though, so long as he didn’t run into an old Duckburg friend from his youth like-

“Scrooge McDuck?”

Well. At least it wasn’t an old _Duckburg_ friend.

Scrooge appeared in front of Ratchet without warning, as if he were a specter that had faded into existence moments before. “Ratchet?! Long time no see! How long has it been?!”

Scrooge pulled in Ratchet for a hug, which Ratchet was accepting of, but not quite welcoming of.

“What are you doing back in Duckburg?” Scrooge asked.

“I’m meeting with someone in a few days about my hydroelectric-“

“Ah, Ratchet! Don’t tell me you’re still on that clean energy kick! I told you before. It’s far too much hassle and far too expensive to be worth anything in the long run!”

Ratchet rolled his eyes. “It’s good for the environment. Not even five minutes ago I went into a coughing fit because of those coal fumes! What do you think about that?”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t actively trying to breathe in coal fumes, that wouldn’t have happened.”

“I-“ Ratchet stopped and ceded. There was simply no getting Scrooge to budge when it came to financial matters. “What have you been up to anyway?”

Scrooge, oblivious to the fact that Ratchet was obviously trying to change the subject talked Ratchet’s ears off for a good while about the millions he’d made (Granted, Ratchet did make a few comments here and there), but the thing that really stopped the conversation from being one-sided was…

“Oh, that reminds me! It’s been a while since we’ve seen one another, but I ran into your uncle a while ago.”

“My uncle?” Ratchet often forgot he had one of those. “Right, right. My dad hardly ever spoke of him.”

“I don’t understand why. He’s a perfectly kind fellow! He even offered to up the security of my money bin for free!”

“Well that was kind of him,” Ratchet said, despite barely knowing this relative of his.

“You can never be too careful,” Scrooge said, “what with the Beagle Boys following my every move. Then there’s that so-called gentleman thief Fantomius, who is out to get me! Bah! Some gentleman he is!”

“Oh?”

“That blistering burglar has been a menace to Duckburg’s rich and elite for years! Stealing their goods without any good reason!” Scrooge’s anger turned to fear. “And the worst part… No one knows who he is. It’s almost as if he takes on a different form constantly! He’ll steal from right under your nose, and you won’t even notice he was there until he flies off on that harebrained hang-glider of his! Drat that Fantomius!”

Fantomius. Ratchet had heard the name around, but the way people spoke of him, he sounded more like a fairy tale than an actual person. Then again, this was Scrooge McDuck. He had a fair number of run-ins with fairy tales.

The moon was out already! Had he really been talking to Scrooge that much? In fairness however, they had quite a bit of catching up to do. But now it was dark out, making it harder to see.

He bid Scrooge farewell as he went searching for the address.

* * *

Villa Rosa. That’s where his dad moved since he’d last been in Duckburg. Had it really been that long? Ratchet thought it had only been a year or two. It must have been a sign he was getting old.

The sky went from blue, to grey, to black, and Ratchet finally found the large estate. His eyes couldn’t help but twinkle. It was so big. How did his father end up in this place? Ratchet placed a hand on the gate, staring at the mansion illuminated by the full moon. It made the house look even more mysterious, and yet somehow homey. Perhaps he really was in a fairy tale…

Ratchet was snapped out of his trance by a soft wooshing noise above him. Ratchet looked up to find no one. Shrugging it off, he went inside.

* * *

 Copernicus was in his lab when he heard the doorbell ring. At first he ignored it, assuming it was those wretched night-salesmen stopping by their door again. But as the doorbell continued ringing, he figured he might as well say something to their face instead of have them destroy the poor doorbell.

“We don’t want whatever you’re se-“ Copernicus said, before realizing who was at the door. “A thousand Tesla coils! Ratchet? Is that you?”

“Hey dad. Surprise!” Ratchet said, more exhausted than he’d intended to be.

“Ratchet! It’s been so long! Why don’t you come in?” Copernicus said, bringing his son inside.

Ratchet looked around the foyer, which looked just as lavish as the outside. “How did you end up with this place?”

“Well, technically, Villa Rosa belongs to Lord Quackett,” Copernicus explained, “but since he and I are good friends, I’ve been living here along with him and his girlfriend. I suppose you could say we’re roommates.”

Ratchet was still marveling at the house’s interior as he followed his father, through the house and into the basement.

“He makes you live in the basement?!” Ratchet exclaimed, somewhat jokingly. “Some friend.”

“Well I do need some space for my inventions,” Copernicus said.

The basement looked more like what Ratchet was used to. Granted, it was much more lavish and nicely furnished than anyplace he lived, but the basement was still messy, disorganized, and full of half-finished inventions and scattered about blueprints.

“Have a seat my boy,” Copernicus gestured to one of the chairs while put away various things that Ratchet paid little attention to and covered a chest with an unfamiliar quilt. “You want some chicory juice?”

Ratchet winced at the offer, unsure how his father could even stomach the stuff. “No thank you.”

“All right then!” Copernicus sat down across from Ratchet, holding a bottle of chicory juice for himself.

“So how are Martha and Fulton doing?”

“Both pretty good. Martha’s holding up the drugstore while I’m on leave, and Fulton’s become a troop commander for a group of Junior Woodchucks.”

“That’s good to hear!”

“What about you?” Ratchet asked, “What have you been up to since I last saw you?”

Ratchet and Copernicus talked about the great things they’d been up to. Ratchet with his research in medicine and alternative energy, and Copernicus discussing his newfound friendship with Lord Quackett and his newest inventions.

 “So what brings you back to Duckburg?” Copernicus finally asked.

“Well, I got a meeting with, er…” Ratchet was having trouble remembering the name… “Jack Duckefeller? I think that’s his name. Anyway, I’m meeting with Mr. Duckefeller to talk about using hydroelectric power for his business.”

Copernicus’s eyes lit up. “That’s fantastic! I always knew you were destined for great things my boy! And you’re doing so much good for the environment too!”

“Thanks!” Ratchet smiled. “I hope Mr. Rockenroll thinks the same.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any chicory juice?” Copernicus asked. “It’s supposed to be good for your memory.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Fair enough,” Copernicus said, taking another sip of his juice. “So how has your stay in Duckburg been so far?”

“I only just got here today,” Ratchet replied. “I did run into Scrooge McDuck though.”

“Oh are you two still friends?”

Ratchet didn’t answer. “We talked for a little bit. Well, he talked mostly. He said he ran into my uncle a while back.”

“Oh.”

“You never told me much about him,” Ratchet said. “What’s he like?”

“I never told you about your Uncle Cartesius, did I? Alright. Let me tell you.” A pause. “I hate him.”

“That explains why you never talk about h-”

Ratchet was interrupted by the opening of a door and a new voice.

“Copernic-“

Copernicus and Ratchet turned their heads to the sound to see Fantomius, Gentleman Thief, frozen in his tracks. Next to him was his partner in crime, Dolly Paprika, also frozen in place. No one said a word. Fantomius looked at Copernicus, to Ratchet, back to Dolly. Dolly looked at Ratchet, then at Fantomius. Ratchet looked back and forth between Fantomius and Dolly, then at his father. And Copernicus looked at Fantomius, then back at Ratchet. This went on for some time before Dolly pulled out a can of soporific spray, spraying it in Ratchet’s face, causing him to fall.

* * *

 

“Hm?” Ratchet awoke wearily the next morning to the sound of hammering. A familiar sound that made him forget it had almost been forty-some years since he’d woken up to it.

Unable to shake away the lethargy, but knowing he wouldn’t get back to sleep with the hammering, Ratchet went to the source of the noise.

Copernicus didn’t need to turn away from his work to notice his son behind him. “Morning, Sleepyhead. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Ratchet grunted, shaking his head. It probably wasn’t right to lie to his dad, but he would often do it in his youth to spare his dad any guilt. It was a habit he’d never grown out of.

Ratchet felt like he was dreaming. It’d been so long since he’d seen his dad that it felt surreal, not to mention, waking up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar house.

“What… happened?”

Copernicus did not turn from his work. “You got to Villa Rosa, and you were so exhausted you fell asleep soon afterwards!”

Ratchet racked his brain, trying to remember the night before. “I saw… Fantomius?”

“Probably just a bad dream! Now, how about some breakfast?”

Ratchet wasn’t sure if it was a bad dream or not, though he did have a rather nasty habit of getting his dreams confused with reality when he woke up. Surely breakfast would get his mind straight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof i had some writer's block with this bad boy, particularly with the scenes with John and Ratchet. I hope they turned out okay.
> 
> also, if you have any concrit, ways i should improve, feel free to tell me.

“Ratchet Gearloose?” The small duck at the table reached a hand out to greet Ratchet.

“Pleased to meet you, ah…”

“John Quackett.”

“Pleased to- Wait. How did you know my name?”

“Your father talks his beak off about you,” the female duck at the table replied. “Sometimes we have trouble finding it and putting it back on. Anyway, the name’s Dolly Papera. Glad to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is all mine, miss.”

“So, Ratchet,” John asked, “What brings you to Duckburg?”

“Well, I’m going to meet with Mr. Punkerdunk in a couple days about a clean hydroelectric energy plan.”

“Ah yes, Mr. Punkerdunk,” John said as if he knew the exact person Ratchet was referring to.

“I think he means Rockerduck,” Dolly said.

“Oh! That makes even more sense,” John said. “A wealthy businessman around these parts, and one of the richest ducks in the world if I’m not mistaken. Your cause is a noble one, but heed my advice: you can’t trust rich people.”

“But Lord Quackett,” Ratchet said, “aren’t you rich?”

“So I am,” John replied with a knowing smile before howling out in pain.

“Don’t worry. He’s just fooling around,” Copernicus said as John rubbed both his legs and muttered under his breath. “Just do your best, and know we’re rooting for you!”

“Thanks,” Ratchet finished his breakfast, and dreams of Fantomius became distant.

“I was thinking I would visit Scrooge today. We sort of got cut off yesterday,” Ratchet said once he finished his meal.

“As in-“ John started.

“McDuck, yes,” Ratchet replied.

“He’s in town?” John asked, incredulous.

“Apparently so,” Dolly said.

“I should have planned something for him,” John said, pushing himself away from the table, as if he was expecting to get hurt if he stood by it.

* * *

Ratchet felt obligated to meet up with Scrooge again at the money bin. For some reason, he didn’t particularly want to, but Scrooge was his friend, and surely, they would have a good time catching up.

Or. Not.

“I would have thought you of all people would realize how powerful water would be,” Ratchet said as the two spoke in Scrooge’s office.

“If water’s so powerful, then how come we still need steam and coal to run boats, hmm?” Scrooge asked cockily. “I’m telling you, you’re wasting your time, Ratchet. No one is going to want such an expensive means of energy with little to no payout.”

Ratchet mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, Scrooge!” Ratchet then muttered something else, making sure Scrooge couldn’t hear this time.

“So who’s the cockamamie coal-hater who’s actually willing to _listen_ to your outlandish ideas, anywho?” Scrooge asked.

Ratchet was certain he knew the name, but pulled out the paper regardless, squinting at the paper, as if to make sure it was real.

It was.

“John D. Rockerduck.”

Scrooge cracked a smile, then guffawed, and finally started laughing uncontrollably.

“Hahahaha! No wonder that spendthrift’s interested in you! It’s as if he’s looking for ways to drive his dear old daddy’s fortune into the dirt!”

“Maybe he actually has faith in me.”

“Listen, that waddling whiskerbearer has never made a good financial decision in his life!” Scrooge said. “Maybe you will get your idea off the ground, but only to see it crash and burn once again! At least you’ll have the water to put out the fire! Hahaha!”

Ratchet was tired of this. “I think I’ll see myself out.” And that’s exactly what he did. And he didn’t make it five steps out of the room before slumping to the floor.

_1881_

Scrooge stared at the murky Mississippi water clearing up in the tiny spot where Ratchet dumped the pills.

Ratchet was slumped against a nearby building, crumbled paper peaking out of his pocket.

Scrooge took a glimpse at the paper. He wished he could see what it said, but he knew whatever it was, it was enough to make Ratchet upset.

“Ratchet, I’m not sure what’s bothering you, but I promise I’ll be here for you, no matter what!”

Ratchet smiled a hollow smile.

“Those pills you threw away, you could make more of them! And even better this time! I know you could! You’ve got something!”

Ratchet stared out at the river. _Did he really_? From here the water looked just as murky as before. Ratchet stood up and made his way to the river. Yep. Still murky. Ratchet sighed.

Scrooge followed him. “Maybe you didn’t fix the whole river, but you tried, and made it a little better. I’ll bet you if we ran fast enough, we could still find the clean spot.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Ratchet finally said in a voice above a whisper. “I just wish I could have done more.”

“You still can.”

Ratchet replied only with a sad smile.

Ah. “Listen, Ratchet, whatever’s bothering you, I’m always here for you! I’ll help you! I’ll give you my full support! I promise!”

_1921_

“What ever happened to that?” Ratchet asked himself.

“Are you just going to mope outside Scrooge’s office?” Miss Quackfaster asked.

“I’m Scrooge’s old friend, give me a moment!”

* * *

 

“And if all goes well, we’ll return around 12:45 am,” Dolly said, discussing tonight’s mission, “and hopefully we won’t lose track of time this time?”

“I already said I was sorry,” Copernicus said as he tidied up his lab. “Besides, it’s not like he found out our secret.”

“Well now, we’re going to have to jump through hoops to keep it a secret from him” Dolly said. “At least until he leaves.”

“Do we have to though?”

John had been eerily quiet as Dolly and Copernicus discussed this mission, so hearing him say something so suddenly had the other two in silence for a while. That is, until they both shouted in unison…

“No!”

“What’s the point of a secret identity if you tell other people, John?” Dolly asked. “And besides, who’s to say he wouldn’t call the cops or warn the people we’re trying to rob?”

“He’s Copernicus’s son,” John replied. “He’s trustworthy.”

“Remind us, Copernicus. Where is your son right now?” Dolly asked.

“He said he was visiting Scrooge McDuck,” Copernicus said, as he placed a quilt in a nearby closet.

“He is _literal_ friends with Scrooge McDuck!” Dolly exclaimed. “You want to tell someone who’s all buddy-buddy with the richest duck in the world that you’re going to steal from his friend!”

“Not to mention, this isn’t exactly the safest way to live,” Copernicus said. “Ratchet can’t afford to get in legal trouble, especially because of me.”

“He has a point,” Dolly said. “It’d be for his own safety.”

“I suppose you’re right,” John said, “but is it really worth it to lie to family?”

“Yes,” Copernicus and Dolly said in unison.

“It’s too dangerous to tell him, John. At least now,” Copernicus said.

So John couldn’t tell, that wasn’t to say he couldn’t be a catalyst…

* * *

 

Ratchet had made his way to a restaurant unfamiliar to him and had a seat, pulling out his notebook to make notes, fixing up his pitch. It had to be the absolute best it could be; he had to prove to Scrooge that there was a market for this stuff.

He mouthed his speech to himself when he overheard someone behind him.

“Drat that Fantomius! He was probably the one who sent in that tip about robbing Villa la Vida when he actually went for Dover Manor! I was a fool for even falling for it!”

Fantomius. There was that name again… It made his thought spiral back to that hazy feeling. That dream. “Fantomius…” Ratchet said aloud without thinking.

“Do you know something about Fantomius, sir?” The man almost yelled, causing Ratchet to jump out of his chair.

Clutching his chest, Ratchet turned toward the man, who was now turned around in his chair, eyeing Ratchet. Behind him was a woman who seemed to be annoyed by the man’s antics.

“Not talking huh?” The man asked. “That seems pretty suspect.”

“I’m not talking because you almost gave me a heart attack!” Ratchet exclaimed.

“Well, so long as you’re still alive, what do you know about Fantomius?”

“Nothing! I just had a dream about him last night!”

“Hmm,” the man pondered this over. “Fantomius does use a soporific spray on some of his victims. Where were you last night?”

A soporific spray? Perhaps then, it wasn’t a dream? “Villa Rosa.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to see if witnesses saw a bearded man in Dover Manor. He may have been disguised as you,” The man pondered for a moment. “Do you remember anything else from your dream?”

“I remember… Fantomius saying my father’s name.”

“Who is your father?”

“Copernicus Gearloose.”

“I didn’t know that old man had a son.”

“He does and I’m him.”

“It’s just I always thought he was a confirmed bachelor. I’d never seen him with a woman before.”

Ratchet looked down. “She died of illness a long time ago. I’d rather not talk too much about it.”

“Well then, in regards to Fantomius, you were probably just dreaming,” the man said, lacking any sympathy, before returning to his clearly annoyed wife.

“Wait!” Ratchet said, further annoying the man’s wife. “What if… that stuff you said about the soporific spray… what if I was sprayed with it. What if Villa Rosa is a base for Fantomius?”

“Highly doubtful. Villa Rosa is owned by Lord Quackett, and I can say with one hundred percent certainty, that lackadaisical, clumsy good for nothing is not Fantomius.”

“I see…” So it was a dream. “Thank you Mister….”

“Pinko.”

“Thank you Mister Pinko.”

“Commissioner Pinko.”

“Sorry. Commissioner Pinko.”

Ratchet returned to his notes as he overheard Commissioner Pinko’s wife giving him a mouthful. He almost felt he ought to apologize to the woman.

Then Ratchet’s meal came and he forgot all about it.

* * *

“Can we talk, Ratchet?” John asked that evening. “I’d like to learn more about you.”

Ratchet, who was practicing the speech he was to give in a few days, jumped as John began to speak. Ratchet took a look at John, wondering what he would possibly want to know.

“I suppose so, Lord Quackett.”

“Call me John.”

“Sorry. John.”

“Don’t worry about it,” John said. “So you’re friends with Scrooge McDuck, right?”

Ratchet made a face. “I guess so.”

“I’m sure people would be envious of you, him being the richest duck in the world and all. Though to be honest, he seems a little rude,” John said.

“You could say that,” Ratchet said. “I’m honestly surprised he has any friends at all.”

“Well, why are you friends with him?” John asked.

“Well.” Ratchet paused. “He was the first friend I made after I left Duckburg. I guess that’s a bit sentimental, but-”

“I understand,” John said. “Your father was one of the first friends I made after I moved to Duckburg!”

Ratchet looked at John, but couldn’t read him. He seemed friendly, at least for an eccentric rich duck. Ratchet thought of what John had told him during breakfast.

“Do you like Scrooge?” Ratchet asked.

“I barely know him,” John replied. “And I plan to keep it that way, that is until our business paths cross someday.”

“And what business are you in, exactly?” Ratchet asked.

“Generally, I’m in the business of doing nothing,” John said. “Though I do have some interest in treasure hunting, much like Scrooge. The one difference is he keeps his treasures. I give them away.”

“Give them away?”

“Of course, to those less fortunate. Sort of-”

“John, we’re going to be late!” Dolly seemed to appear in the room out of nowhere.

“I hope you don’t mind, Ratchet, but Dolly and I have a party to attend this evening,” John said, getting up. “These things are usually dull, but someone we have to show up out of respect. Though we’ll probably spend the evening brooding. As if we aren’t even there.”

John smiled at Ratchet and Ratchet waved the two off.

“I suppose we’re on our own this evening,” Copernicus said, entering as John and Dolly exited. “Should I make dinner.”

“S-” Ratchet paused. It had been a long time since his father made dinner for him. Probably back when he was a little kid. But Ratchet knew one thing.

It was never any good.

“Actually, I’ll make dinner!” Ratchet said. “Give me a second and I’ll get on it.”

As Ratchet got up and situated, he looked out the window to see a shadow soaring through the night sky.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW UH! This took a while! Sorry about that. I had some mental illness stuff I wanted to get through before I wrote certain parts of this in order to preserve the quality of this. Next chapter may take a while too, mostly due to me wanting to write it gracefully.
> 
> Also did a little retconning of the story as is, so maybe read through it again if you would like? It's just some minor changes to Scrooge scenes.

A triangular shape. Was that right? It didn’t make sense! Where would the head have gone? Perhaps it didn’t have a head from that angle. Though Ratchet had never seen a bird quite like that.

It made him think of Fulton. More specifically, it made him think, _Fulton would probably know what that strange bird would have been_.

Would have, that is, if the strange shape wasn’t already escaping his memory, distorted by second guesses.

He was getting old.

Ratchet drew the triangle-shaped bird once more before giving up on it entirely. He would write a letter to his son though.

It was late when John got home. Usually, he went straight to bed after a mission, and that was his plan tonight as well. However, he noticed a drawing at the top of the wastebasket.

Perhaps their guest was getting suspicious on his own.

_Good._

* * *

 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The knock on the door the next morning was unexpected, but John opened the door unfazed to see the irritated commissioner tapping his foot.

“H-“

“Save it, Quackett,” Commissioner Pinko said. “I’m here to talk to Gearloose.”

“ ** _COPERNICUS, IT’S FOR YOU!_** ” John yelled, as Copernicus arrived in the foyer.

“Not him! His son!”

“Oh.” John said. “ ** _RATCHET IT’S FOR YOU!_** ”

“Must you be so loud and obnoxious?” Pinko asked.

“My apologies Commissioner, but I must.” John said.

Ratchet finally arrived in the foyer, followed by Dolly. “Commissioner Pinko? Do you need something?”

“Gearloose! Finally! I need to tell you something, but it’s,” Pinko looked at Copernicus, Dolly, and John, “highly confidential. We need to meet somewhere private. Meet me in the park in 2 hours.”

Pinko slammed the door behind him as he left and John giggled.

“Did something happen, Ratchet?” Copernicus asked with the utmost concern.

“I just met him at a café yesterday,” Ratchet replied. “I told him about that dream about Fantomius. I’m not sure what else he wants.”

“That Pinko will follow any lead,” John explained, “Even if it leads him to a hospital.”

“He seemed convinced I was dreaming before,” Ratchet said. “I wonder if he changed his mind.”

“I wonder if he even has one to begin with,” Dolly said.

John and Dolly laughed.

* * *

 

“Three nights in a row. That no-good Fantomius needs to rest some time,” Pinko muttered to himself as he paced around the park. “Where is that Gearloose anyway?”

After a couple minutes, Ratchet finally arrived, carrying his worn, chicken-scratch covered paper.

“There you are, Gearloose!”

“Hello to you too, Commissioner Pinko?”

“No time for formalities, Gearloose,” Pinko said. “Have you ever experienced precognition before?”

Ratchet was confused. “Have I _what_?”

“I have reason to believe that dream of yours was no dream, but a premonition,” Pinko explained.

“ _What_?”

“Listen Gearloose, this is completely top secret, confidential, hush-hush, information,” Pinko said as three kids ran by.

“What is it?” Ratchet asked.

“We’ve received an anonymous tip that Fantomius will be robbing Villa Rosa tonight.”

“ ** _What?!_** ”

“We’ve received an anonymous tip tha-”

“I heard what you said! But why are you telling _me_?” Ratchet asked.

“Well, you’re the only person in that nuthouse I trust,” Pinko replied.

“I don’t even _live_ there!” Ratchet almost yelled. “And what about John? Didn’t you say yesterday he couldn’t be Fantomius? Why can’t you tell him?”

Pinko just stared at Ratchet for a moment, before breaking out into a mess of guffaws, which just left Ratchet even more confused.

“That good for nothing?” Pinko finally said, almost breathless. “ _Please_.”

Between the conversation now and the banter between John and Dolly this morning, Ratchet could sense the slightest bit of antagonism between the parties.

“I’ll just keep an eye out then,” Ratchet said.

“Not quite,” Pinko replied. “We need someone on the inside. Someone who will see Fantomius’ crimes first hand!”

“So you picked me?”

“Of course! With your powers of premonition, you could easily find Fantomius!”

Ratchet rolled his eyes. “Do you have any idea who this Fantomius even is?”

“An absolute pain in my neck that’s what he is!” Pinko exclaimed. “Though judging by his gadgetry he seems like a rich, eccentric type. Or at least upper middle class. Not to mention interested in treasure hunting.”

Ratchet thought for a moment before his eyes went wide. “Scrooge.”

“McDuck?”

Ratchet wasn’t sure what to think. This was his friend after all.

Right?

“He fits the profile,” Ratchet said. “He adores treasure. And he is eccentric and rich. Has Fantomius ever stolen anything from Scrooge?”

Pinko paused. “You’re right. Scrooge could very well be a suspect! My men can deal with him, but you still need to keep an eye out! Fantomius can be tricky!”

“Shouldn’t you warn others about this? As in, people who actually live in Villa Rosa?”

“Absolutely not. Out of the question. In fact, it’d be better if you didn’t tell them about this conversation.”

* * *

 

“Anyway, Commissioner Pinko thinks Fantomius is going to rob Villa Rosa,” Ratchet explained to his father.

Copernicus’ face began to contort and he squinted his eyes. “What?”

“That’s what Commissioner Pinko told me.”

“Th-“ Copernicus stopped himself. “Don’t concern yourself too much with it. The police get fake Fantomius reports all the time! Besides, you have your talk with Rockerduck tomorrow. You should be focused on that!”

“Oh! Right!”

As Copernicus left. Ratchet looked at his note cards, trying to memorize what he wanted to say. Unfortunately, his mind kept drifting to Scrooge.

* * *

 

_1910_

Something slipped, and word got around fast. Ratchet was never a huge fan of gossip, but at least in this case, it was helping business.

The pharmacy was full of bright-eyed children and incredulous adults.

“You know Scrooge McDuck?” Someone in the crowd asked.

“Yes, we were childhood friends,” Ratchet said.

Then, everyone was asking questions at once.

“What’s he like?!”

“How’d he get so rich?”

“Is he really as honest as they say?”

“Should one person really be taking all the riches of the world for himself?”

“Where is he now?”

“Please! One at a time!” Ratchet almost-yelled.

When that didn’t work, Martha tried to get everyone to settle down, to little avail.

In the chaos, Fulton disappeared. No one even noticed he was gone until the sound of hammer smacking against counter echoed though the room.

Everyone was silent. There was a large dent in the counter where Fulton had struck the hammer. Martha shot her son a glare.

“I’ll fix it,” Fulton mouthed, keeping the silence in the pharmacy.

An old man near the counter finally spoke. “Whatever happened to ol’ Scrooge McDuck anyway?”

* * *

 

Whatever happened to Scrooge McDuck indeed? He had supposedly gone missing, but here he was now, in plain sight in Duckburg, as if it had never happened.

Perhaps he would disappear again. Perhaps he used this invisibility in plain sight to his advantage.

How could a person get so rich anyway without some foul play?

Oh, what was Ratchet thinking?! Scrooge McDuck was still a close friend of his! Well maybe not close, but still a friend. Probably. If you stretch the definition of friend a little bit. Or a lot. Last Ratchet checked friends were supposed to be supportive, and Scrooge wasn’t actually-

Wait, was this some sort of revenge? Accusing Scrooge of being Fantomius? It was starting to make more and more sense, but maybe that’s because he wasn’t getting along with Scrooge now.

He needed to get his mind off of things. He had a presentation to give tomorrow.

He might as well play patrol for a while.

Ratchet walked around Villa Rosa, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Copernicus was working on something in the lab, Dolly was writing a letter, and John was carrying things around the house. The evening was a quiet one.

“So, Ratchet! Are you ready for tomorrow?” John asked as he dropped all of his valuables onto a quilt.

“To be honest, I’m feeling a little distracted,” Ratchet replied.

“Oh, don’t I know it!” John said, picking up the four corners of the quilt. “Especially in regards to what’s happening tonight. Have you heard the rumors?”

“About Fantomius?”

“That’s right. Rumor has it he will be visiting us tonight, so I have to be one step ahead of him. I’m not just moving around all my valuables for my _health,_ you know!”

“That’s actually pretty clever,” Ratchet said.

“I’m glad you think so,” John said, placing the quilt full of valuables in a trash bin.

“Wait, don’t you think that-“

“It’s genius because no thief would think to look in the trash for valuables? Absolutely.”

Ratchet opened his mouth, but closed it again realizing John probably wasn’t going to listen.

“Oh, by the way, when I was emptying the trash, I saw some peculiar pictures. Did you draw them?” John asked.

“Oh! Yeah,” Ratchet said. “It was some bird I saw last night.”

John paused. “Well it was the ugliest bird I’ve ever seen.”

Before Ratchet could think of a response to the sudden insult, John mumbled “Wait a second…” under his breath.

“What was that?” Ratchet asked.

“Nothing. I’m sorry,” John replied. “I’m sure your drawing of a bird was very good looking.”

“Oh. Then thank you, I guess?” Ratchet said.

“Of course, I don’t think you got a very good view of him…”

“What?”

“Nothing!” John quickly changed the subject. “That pitch of yours is tomorrow, right?”

Ratchet nodded.

“You’ll want to get some rest then.” John said. “Dealing with eccentric rich types like Mr. Punkerdunk is exhausting.”

Ratchet smiled and crossed his arms. He wouldn’t dare say so out loud, but after the past few days, he couldn’t help but agree internally.

“I would know better than most. I have to deal with this louse John Quackett a large chunk of the time, and I’m always worn out by it.”

Ratchet couldn’t tell if John was making a joke, and before he could open his mouth to ask, John spoke again.

“Good luck tomorrow, Ratchet,” John said. “We’re rooting for you.”

That John Quackett was peculiar, but at least he was supportive, which was more than he could say for others. Ratchet wasn’t sure he would be ready tomorrow, but he felt as prepared as he would ever be, and he knew he has family and friends supporting him, so he let himself sleep that night.

It felt like no time had passed from the moment he got into bed that night to the moment he jolted awake, hearing a scream echo through the house, followed by hustling and stomping coming from the floor above.

It took him a minute to realize the scream came from his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: as of 7/2/2019, i have decided to shelve this fic. this story served as wish fulfillment to me, and with ratchet in fantomius, i don't really need to work on it. i will likely make some other duck stories, and i am currently working on peculiar hero, which i don't intend to stop. if anyone wishes, i will put up my notes for what would have happened in further chapters. i am sorry to the diehard fans of this story.


End file.
